


Routine

by ladyoflalaland



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Light BDSM, Married Sex, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Rope Bondage, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:12:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoflalaland/pseuds/ladyoflalaland
Summary: The routine is the same whenever Byleth returns home to her husband, Dimitri, but Byleth relishes it regardless. After so many months apart, she looks forward to knowing he will soon be bound to their bed, eager for Byleth to use his body for her pleasure.Written for f!Dimileth Week 2020. Day 6, Routine.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> Sex is more gentle femdom than femdom. Overly-cautious warning that the way Byleth and Dimitri handle face-sitting and (spoiler!) the ropes breaking are not good practice for BDSM. Brief mentions of student/teacher flirting and canon-typical mental illness.
> 
> Come hang out with me on Twitter! [@Ladyoflalaland](https://twitter.com/ladyoflalaland)

The routine is the same whenever Byleth returns home to her husband, but Byleth relishes it regardless. Dimitri is always waiting for her, scanning the southern horizon with his one good eye. Byleth loves the way his face lights up when she comes into view. She delights feeling his strong arms around her as he sweeps her into a tight embrace before she can fully dismount her horse. She loves how her heart, so new to beating, pounds when he presses his lips to hers.

Loves knowing soon he will be bound to their bed: naked, begging, hers.

As Dimitri embraces her, in the courtyard of his — their — palace, Byleth can feel the way he holds back, the way it takes all of his self-control to keep from squeezing his beloved too tightly with his supernatural, crest-given strength. But, Dimitri’s self-control cannot last forever. And so, the second part, the private part, of their routine was created. To prevent Dimitri from accidentally hurting his wife in his eagerness, she must take control, must bind him.

Perhaps Byleth created the routine for her own pleasure as well.

The kissing stops in the courtyard. If they carried it into the bedroom, Dimitri might lose himself in the moment and forget. Byleth’s clothes stay on as his drop to the floor. She wonders, as she always does, how he gets the lines of his stomach so defined. She yearns to press her mouth to those lines, to follow them down to the place where they meet.

Dimitri sees her staring and, despite the months of marriage, despite the routine nature of their lovemaking upon every one of her homecomings, becomes shy.

“I cannot wait until you too are unclothed,” he says, unable to look his wife in the face. “It, well, it always feels rather odd to be the only one…” Dimitri trails off.

Perhaps this routine isn’t to protect Byleth from her husband’s brute strength when they have been apart. When it is more difficult for him to control it, for sheer longing for his wife’s body.

Perhaps Byleth simply likes to be in control.

She does not respond to Dimitri, instead fixing him with a hungry look before taking his hand. Her hand feels small in his, but not fragile. They walk, slowly, hand in hand to the bed. The thought, entirely too innocent given the nature of their upcoming lovemaking, enters Byleth’s mind that she is excited simply to sleep at Dimitri’s side again, to feel his warm body wrapped around hers, the rise and fall of his chest against her back.

And then she sees Dimitri again, body bared, looming over her, muscles tight in the firelight. She sees them strain as he uses all of his willpower to hold back, to keep from throwing Byleth onto the bed, tearing through her clothing, and fucking each hole in her body until she is filled with his seed. All thoughts of sleep leave Byleth’s mind.

Tonight is not his night to hold her down and fuck her.

Tonight is hers.

Byleth slips her hand out of Dimitri’s and, softly, slowly, showing him what control really means, drags the tips of her fingers up his chest. She stands far enough away to prevent rubbing against his cock, but when she glances down she realizes with pride that Dimitri is hardening already.

“I— darling,” Dimitri begins. He is stumbling over his words. Good. “I must admit I have not… touched myself for a few days. I wanted to make sure I was ready for you upon your return.”

Perhaps her husband does have some self-control. Although, in some ways, Byleth wishes he _had_ pleasured himself. He lasts longer and is less prone to thrusts that knock the wind out of Byleth even as they make her moan when he is less sexually pent-up.

But, then again, he has been waiting for _her._ Byleth, without being there, has that level of control over her husband’s body. Kept him from pleasuring himself. Made him wait without saying a word.

The next part of the routine is Byleth’s favorite. Dimitri is stronger than her. But, whenever Byleth pushes him back onto the bed — and she _always_ pushes him onto the bed — Dimitri yields easily to her touch, falling backward until his head hits the pillow, golden hair fanning out, bright on the dark, silky sheets.

Dimitri watches Byleth as she moves, bending over to pick up the rope. It is a little unfair of her, to bend the way she does: giving her poor husband a view of the round behind he is forbidden to touch tonight without her permission.

The pretense that their routine was ever about Dimitri’s self-control weakens as he watches her patiently, sighing, cock standing straight up, untouched.

Here, the routine deviates a little. Always there are ropes. Sometimes Byleth ties her husband to a chair. Tonight, it is the bed. Right leg against right post, left against left post. Dimitri could easily break through the ropes, get out, ravish her. The ropes serve only as a reminder. They are not meant to dig against his skin unless he moves too suddenly at Byleth’s touch.

Right arm is tied to the headboard. Left arm joins swiftly. Byleth checks the blood flow to each finger and, for the first time since entering the bedroom, speaks.

“Does everything feel okay?”

Dimitri meets her eyes. She can see the desperation rising in his face and smiles. To comply, he moves his hands and feet. “Yes, my love— only, do you feel you are moving slower than usual?”

The tease is part of the routine, but Byleth can speed up the process. Byleth can see the sweat begin to bead on his forehead, the precum begin to glisten on his cock. She leans down and kisses Dimitri. He opens his mouth to her, yielding so easily, so obediently.

Without breaking the kiss, Byleth moves to straddle Dimitri. She can feel the sharp planes of his body through her clothes and, despite it all, despite the game, despite the routine, Byleth is hungry too, biting at Dimitri’s lip, grinding against his stomach. Ready for more, she breaks the kiss and sits up to remove her shirt and bra.

Byleth sees Dimitri’s hands pull at the ropes the second her breasts are bared. She knows how badly he wants to take them in his hands, to squeeze them, to knead them, to roll her nipples between his fingers and later, teeth. Even when Dimitri was a student, far before marriage or even war crossed their minds, Byleth would catch him looking at her chest. He was subtler about it than Sylvain or Dorothea, or even Lorenz (as highbrow as the young man claimed to be) who all stared openly and unashamedly. Dimitri would sneak glances, face red, trying and always failing to hide his lust. It was his stare that made her body throb and her hands shake as she wrote battle strategies upon the board.

A blush creeps onto Dimitri’s cheeks, just as it had when he was a student. He is not sneaking glances now, staring intently at his wife’s chest. Carefully, without moving too far off Dimitri’s chest, Byleth removes her skirt and her now wet panties. As soon as she is fully unclothed, she shifts forward until Dimitri’s face is covered by her tits. Byleth allows herself to sigh for the first time since entering the bedroom as Dimitri kisses along first the right, then the left breast, before taking a nipple in his mouth. She feels the vibrations travel through her chest as he moans.

Byleth begins to rut against his chest, wetness staining the hard pectoral muscles. The routine has to change: she wants his mouth to continue licking and sucking at her breasts, wants to feel his face buried between them, but the heat and wetness in her pussy demand immediate attention and Dimitri’s mouth looks so pink and inviting.

Dimitri need not ask her to move faster now. Byleth straddles his face eagerly, lowering herself down, trying to take most of her weight in her legs, even though she knows Dimitri can handle it. Byleth moans loudly when she feels his tongue meet her clit.

Here, mouth against her entrance, Byleth does not mind Dimitri’s eagerness. On their wedding night, when Dimitri’s inexperienced tongue licked a little too hard at spots a little too far from where they should have been, Byleth had asked him to slow down, to learn from her, to let her be the professor once more. But, tonight, after many, many months of training, this is the one part of the routine where Byleth lets Dimitri take the lead. Where she simply runs her hands through his golden hair and _enjoys._

This position is risky. With Dimitri’s hands tied and mouth otherwise occupied, there are no good ways he can tell Byleth if something feels or goes wrong. They have devised a system: too rapid blinks with his remaining eye, check ins.

After a few more moments of ecstasy as Dimitri’s tongue runs fast, light circles upon her, Byleth raises herself off of his mouth, relishing in the wetness now covering Dimitri’s face. This is what she would dream of when her meetings at Garreg Mach ran long into the evening: her husband, real and alive and _under her_.

She meets Dimitri’s gaze, waiting for his verbal consent before she makes use of his mouth once more.

Dimitri catches his breath. Byleth can see a smile grace his lips. “My dear” — Dimitri delights in pet names for her, even when tied up and panting on a bed — “I cannot rest until you are brought to bliss. I am fine, please.”

Byleth needs no more confirmation. She lowers herself down, watching Dimitri’s face carefully for any sign of discomfort, but as soon as she has positioned herself on his mouth, he gets to work once more. Byleth pulls, harder than intended, at his hair, twining her hands in the strands, and exhales as she feels the heat begin to rise in her gut. Dimitri’s tongue continues its pace: light, faster now, as she feels herself instinctively grind against his mouth.

Byleth feels her legs, her entire body, tense as Dimitri’s pace crescendos and he makes soft noises against her. She grinds into him again and, _fuck,_ one last lap of his tongue at her clit and she is coming, so wet she is surely flooding Dimitri’s mouth. He continues to lap at her, gentler now, tasting her wetness, continuing to show Byleth how easily she can own him. When her orgasm subsides, Byleth moves off carefully.

Dimitri closes his eye, relaxing. “I do not mind continuing.”

Byleth shakes her head. While the idea of fucking her husband’s face, using his mouth to come over and over until she is sated has some appeal, if she comes again, she wants it to be on his cock.

Besides, Byleth might be in command but she is not without mercy. Dimitri has gone neglected for far too long.

Gently, Byleth takes a cloth and wipes off Dimitri’s face. Part of what she likes about being in charge is taking care of him: despite their months of marriage, despite Dimitri speaking with a counselor, taking herbs to help heal his mental hurts, Byleth will never be able to erase those dark, painful years. She relishes in cleaning him off now. Dimitri smiles sweetly as she does and Byleth feels her heart flutter.

But it is not the time to be sweet, to be loving. Now is the time to ride Dimitri’s thick cock until he comes deep inside of her.

Byleth loves this next part of the routine. She first kisses Dimitri’s mouth, feeling him sigh against her, and then mouths at his jaw, his neck, down, down to his chest. She can feel the hard lines of his abdomen against her mouth and the muscles of his arms as she rubs her hands against them. The war is over, but they both train every day, knowing no life but one of preparing for battle. Byleth might not mind if Dimitri got a little softer, but she has to admit the hardness of his muscles, the feel of his biceps, tensed with his hands bound to the bed, excites her.

She lingers at his taut stomach, kissing him, feeling even here how his heart pounds in his chest. Byleth looks up, meeting his gaze, happy to see Dimitri looking down at her, face flushed, mouth slightly open, watching her every move.

He dick has gotten soft in the minutes since her teasing aroused him so. Byleth kisses down the lines of his lower stomach before taking his cock in her mouth and feels, with pride, as Dimitri begins to harden once more.

Although Byleth does not want to wait too long before riding him, she loves the feeling of his dick in her mouth, especially as it swells inside of her. She bobs her head up and down Dimitri’s length. Before he is fully hard, Byleth can take all of him, nose meeting skin as she fucks her mouth with his length. Byleth can fast feel him become too big, however, and she pulls back. Despite months of practice, when Dimitri is fully hard, Byleth can only take his cock about halfway into her mouth before she feels herself choke. 

Her pussy always throbs when his cock chokes her.

Byleth can wait no longer; Dimitri is incredibly hard and she feels empty without him between her legs. She pulls her mouth off of him and kneels over his length, taking his cock — so hot, so thick — in her hand, guiding it to her entrance.

They are approaching the end of the routine now.

Byleth does not often vocalize her pleasure, but there is something about sinking onto her husband’s dick that makes her moan. He is bigger, feels bigger now, after their months apart and she is _full,_ fuller than she could ever make herself all those lonely weeks, when she would slide fingers into herself, Dimitri’s name on her lips.

Conversely, Dimitri has never been able to stop himself from making noise. He exhales sharply and cries out her name over and over as Byleth fucks him. Byleth watches his hands strain at the ropes. The ropes are close to breaking, reminding Byleth of Dimitri’s strength, why they began this routine, of her binding him, of her fucking him, in the first place.

Despite the ropes, despite the promises to be good, to let Byleth take control, when Byleth moves up on his cock and before she can pound down onto him again, she feels Dimitri thrust up _hard,_ pounding her in a spot that offers both pleasure and pain. The move was accidental, instinctual; Dimitri simply wanted more of her, but Byleth fixes him with a _look,_ her withering, professor gaze, and he melts.

“I’m sorry,” Dimitri says, words coming out with a gasp as Byleth, as punishment, as reward, begins to fuck him harder. “I cannot—” Byleth leans down as she continues to ride him, breasts grazing his chest, placing her hand over his mouth, telling him without words that the only sounds he should be making are of pleasure.

He obeys. Byleth feels the vibrations, the wetness against her hand as he mouths wordless sounds of pleasure into her skin. She picks up her pace, still barely used to his size, but unable to stop herself, despite the stretch, despite the ache, from using Dimitri’s dick to fuck her own body as hard as possible.

Dimitri thrusts again, hitting Byleth once more in _that spot,_ sending ripples through her pussy, already aching from the strain of taking something so big. Her second orgasm takes her by surprise, but Dimitri can see it in her face and feel her clench around him. He thrusts once more, breaking the rules of their routine in order to better help his beloved come around his cock.

He fucks her now, hands pulling hard at the ropes. Byleth hears them break and somewhere, in the back of her mind, registers that their carefully planned routine has gone off the rails. This thought is silenced by the bliss of her body meeting Dimitri’s as they both thrust and rut against each other. She feels his hands, warm against her back, and then Byleth’s mind goes even more blank as she hears him cry out and Byleth feels overly full as she takes all of him in her, forcing him to come deep inside her body.

Byleth wants his seed to go as far into her as possible. Wants it to remain in her for hours and wake up with it covering her legs, her panties. After months apart, is it such a crime to want something of Dimitri inside of her long after they have separated? 

So pent up, Dimitri fills her more than usual. Byleth, still coming down from her own orgasm, barely registers the mess now dripping out of her, onto Dimitri's groin and their bed.

Dimitri falls back, body weak and Byleth falls against him, enjoying the pound of his heart for a long moment. Dimitri speaks.

“I am sorry, Beloved, I ruined your plan.”

Byleth can hardly admonish him now, although perhaps she will punish him for it later. For the moment, she stands, placing a cloth between her legs to catch the running wetness before carefully undoing the now torn ropes, checking Dimitri once more for any injuries.

They both clean up. The sheets will need washing, but that is a job for tomorrow.

Dimitri may have gone off book a little, but the last part of the routine remains the same. Cleaned and exhausted and together, at last, Byleth lies down, pulling Dimitri to her, peppering his back with kisses, stroking his chest. And so, as always, they fall asleep. Byleth wrapped as best she can be around her far larger love, feeling the beat of his heart against her hand, the warmth of his back against her chest. Relishing in the way the smell of his skin feels like safety and warmth and home.

 _No this_ , Byleth thinks, as she drifts off to sleep, Dimitri in her arms, _is the best part of our routine_.


End file.
